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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199492">hydrangeas.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4kiroll/pseuds/m4kiroll'>m4kiroll</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>femslash february 2021 prompts!! [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Flower Shop &amp; Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Awkward Peko Pekoyama, Crush at First Sight, F/F, Femslash February, First Meetings, Fluff, Self-Indulgent, and it's the most in character thing i've written, florist! peko, pls consider them, she's trying her best to keep up with sonia's excitement, sonia names her potted plants unoriginal names, tattoo artist! sonia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:47:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,706</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4kiroll/pseuds/m4kiroll</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> peko pekoyama had little to no problems when working at kuzuryu’s floristry — that was, until an excitable blonde had purchased the shop across the street from the floristry, setting up her own tattoo parlor. </i>
</p>
<p>(or, in which the new tattoo artist across the street is infuriatingly gorgeous in what seemed both inside and out — florist! peko and tattoo artist! sonia)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sonia Nevermind/Pekoyama Peko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>femslash february 2021 prompts!! [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hydrangeas.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tattoo artist! sonia and florist! peko is such a good concept please consider them,, pekosonia is so good i could go on and on about how much i adore the absolute ray of sunshine x reserved trope but that's pretty obvious when you look at my main ships</p>
<p>
  <b> day four: flowers </b>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Working at a flower shop had its ups and downs — caring for the flowers always brought a feeling of fulfillment to Peko as she nursed the plants from seeds to blooming beauties. Warding off bugs was always less enjoyable, as was explaining how flower language was not, in fact, a spoken language to some particularly dense customers, but overall, Peko Pekoyama had little to no problems when working at Kuzuryu’s Floristry. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was, until an excitable blonde had purchased the shop across the street from the floristry, setting up her own tattoo parlor. Peko watched as she waited for the occasional customer as the woman decorated her place passionately and with the most pleasant smile on her face. Ironically, the place seemed devoid of the usual grunge aesthetic most tattoo parlors went for — instead, Peko noticed the wall of vinyls and polaroids, the large, brown leather couches and chairs with magazines and designs strewn out on tables in front of them in the place. She noticed golden frames of gorgeous paintings that fit the academia vibe the owner was going for. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most notably, Peko noticed how the woman had frowned down at her plants that were beginning to wilt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(And the woman had <em> a lot </em>of plants.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For that reason, Peko wasn’t at all surprised to find the woman crossing the street with one of the potted plants in hand (Peko smiled softly when she noticed that the woman had looked both ways multiple times before crossing, or more accurately, dashing across the street, before wiping the smile from her face clean — the woman could just look up and see her, a stranger, <em> smiling </em>at her, after all!) a little before noon — during her self-given lunch break, Peko assumed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The woman tore open the handle of the door, the faint chiming of the bell above the door sounded throughout the flower shop, unnecessarily alerting Peko of the woman’s presence, as if the shop weren’t currently empty.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peko watched, amused, as the woman whirled around on her feet to take in the shop. A pang of satisfaction spurred in Peko when she saw the woman’s jaw had dropped — it was an understatement to say that Peko prided herself on keeping the shop bright with the colors of the lush green leaves and the vibrancy of the variety of flowers in the shop’s inventory. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My, your flowers are absolutely beautiful!” The woman exclaimed in a European accent Peko wasn’t familiar with. Her pale blue eyes shone bright with fascination as she soaked in the view of the room around her. “The care you put into these plants… simply marvelous!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finding herself blushing at the compliments that took no time or energy to come up with, Peko was surprised. She couldn’t remember the last time she had found a customer cute, let alone visibly blush at them, despite the overload of compliments she had received on occasion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As if remembering why she had come, the woman gasped, turning around to face Peko. The potted plant partly obscured her vision, so the blonde set it down to her left on the counter in between her and Peko, flashing a warm smile to the red-eyed girl and extending her hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Forgive me for getting side-tracked! Your quaint flower shop was simply too gorgeous to not fawn over, but it is lovely to meet you! My name is Sonia Nevermind, it is lovely to be your acquaintance!” the woman, Sonia, greets, talking animatedly and passionately. “I recently came in possession of my own tattoo parlor down the street — have you noticed it?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Sonia spoke, Peko took the time to fully take in her appearance. Right off the bat, Peko noted how she looked nothing like the stereotypical tattoo artist — for one, there wasn’t a single visible tattoo inked on her clear, pale, and porcelain-like skin; speaking of porcelain, the blonde looked like a walking, talking doll — she was tall with long, platinum blonde hair that reached her waist, with a perfectly sculpted face that suited her brilliant smile that hadn’t wavered despite Peko’s silence. To put it simply, she looked like a walking, talking ray of sunshine, prep and princess killer combination, and at that moment Peko came to the conclusion that this girl would be the death of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peko watched as Sonia moved a few strands of hair out of her face — now, Sonia didn’t appear to have a hair out of place. Her hand had moved swiftly and effortlessly (<em> as all hands do </em> , Peko inwardly reminded herself, but the sentiment was lost as she found herself still admiring the oblivious newcomer), making Peko notice how dignified yet stiff she moved. Did this woman come from a wealthy upbringing, explaining her way of speaking and carrying herself? Or was she just extra wordy and still when encountering others?<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Unintentionally, Peko’s own red eyes flit to Sonia’s blue eyes as if to analyze her. However, as soon as she finds herself staring into them with more attention, she realizes it’s more of the other way around — Sonia is looking at Peko attentively with such intensity and unbreaking patience that it feels as if the woman was staring directly into a window of Peko’s soul. Which, she guesses, could be true, if the saying was anything to be concerned about. Her eyes were the same pale blue as the hydrangeas that Peko had near the front window, and the light danced in them without ever flickering out. That was, to Peko’s dismay, until she realized that they had begun to hollow out as confusion began to settle in them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hoping she hadn’t been staring for too long, Peko said the first thing that came to mind as soon as she registered the question that had been asked:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’d be hard not to, seeing as how it’s directly in my line of vision from here,” Peko blurted out, praying she wasn’t blushing. She also prayed that Sonia wouldn’t see her tone of voice and bluntness as apathetic and uninterested as so many had before her, while she was at it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thankfully, the blonde laughed. “I suppose you are right! I apologize for introducing myself this way, and so informally as well — I wanted to arrange a basket of goods from Novoselic, my home country, for you, but alas, Leafy decided to act up!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Somehow, Peko managed to swallow the urge to chuckle at her words. The way she had used such a word such as “alas” right before proceeding to mention how she named her potted plant something as uncreative as Leafy, of all things, all in one breath with a pout as the cherry on top was inexplicably endearing to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s quite alright,” Peko returns, trying to match the other’s formality. “I’m Peko Pekoyama; it’s nice to meet you, too. Now, what’s the problem with… Leafy?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Sonia minded the pause before the name of her plant (Peko just couldn’t believe she was about to refer to a potted plant with such an unoriginal name), she didn’t express so. Instead, she gestured to her plant, rubbing one of the leaves delicately with two of her fingers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am afraid Leafy is beginning to wilt,” Sonia confessed. The heaviness in her tone and defeat in her eyes seemed as if she were admitting to being diagnosed with an unbeatable illness, rather than a plant beginning to wilt. “He does not stand nearly as proud or tall as he once had.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Deciding not to comment on the given pronoun, or the fact the plant had one to begin with, Peko frowns, rubbing a single leaf between two of her fingers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you been watering all your plants?” Peko asks, raising a brow to Sonia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sonia opens her mouth — probably to swear that yes, she did — before shutting it, frowning softly to herself. “I… my goodness, I only did half of the plants because it totally slipped my mind while getting the parlor ready! <em> Drats…!</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peko’s other eyebrow flew up to join her other when she heard the woman mutter ‘<em>drats</em>’ underneath her breath. She couldn’t remember the last time she had heard someone unironically use the term since she had watched old animes and tv shows, but it seemed Sonia was already setting plenty of records for Peko. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I could take my lunch break now and help you water the plants,” Peko offers, though she says it in a firm tone that indicates she’s already made up her mind. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you!” Sonia chirps, effortlessly lifting her potted plant, Leafy, off of the counter, watching as Peko put up an ‘<em>ON LUNCH BREAK</em>’ sign on the door. With a watering can in hand, Peko motioned Sonia out, locking the door with her keys after leaving herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sonia repeated the same procedure she had before — she vigorously yet cautiously looked both ways before awkwardly jogging across the street, the potted plant significantly slowing her down. Peko walked at a normal pace behind her, trying her hardest to fight the blush off her face at how endearing the whole routine was. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as Sonia had opened her own parlor’s door to Peko, the sound of smooth melodies filled her ears.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
“I don’t mean to be rude but…” Peko trailed off as she took in the tattoo parlor in person for the first time. “This place doesn’t really scream ‘<em>tattoos</em>’ to me,” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You speak very big for an emo florist,” Sonia giggled. Peko decided not to point out to her that her appearance didn’t make her emo and that she was using the term wrong. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just kidding!” Sonia giggled. “I wanted this place to be as soothing as possible; from my experience, those who are getting their first tattoo are more terrified by the needles and look of the place and its customers and employees than excited; and tattoos are so important to many people! Some are memoirs of lost loved ones, some are the initials of their lover, and some are just of a character that is important to that person! Each is incredibly sacred to each person! That is why I made it my goal to make this place as comforting as possible, as I am afraid I cannot do much about the large needles…” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s very noble of you,” Peko comments, unsure what to say at the thoughtfulness. The more time she spent with the blonde, the more she figured that she was really just a princess taking her first steps in civility due to the tact in her that was unfindable in others. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sonia blushed. If Peko thought she was cute before, then a flustered Sonia was somehow even cuter. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, the sink is in the back. I’ll water the plants I have already watered, and you make sure that the ones I missed are properly watered!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Following her instructions, Peko filled up her watering can before tilting it down to the plants Sonia had pointed her to. Sonia hummed quietly alongside the music, not speaking a river of words for the first time Peko had met her. Part of her wished she was born with the ability to socialize to strike up a conversation — just to hear her voice again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Slowly but surely, each potted plant was soon watered. The soil of each was dark brown, darkened by the water, and Peko was sure that the roots of the plants were well-attended to. To her surprise, the soil was one of the richest and best she had seen — Sonia clearly knew her gardening. How she had simply forgotten to water half of her plants was beyond her…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you so much, Peko!” Sonia gushes, leaning in close to Peko. Her eyes had that familiar starry-eyed wonder in them — Peko flushed at the praise, both flattered and surprised at how Sonia seemed to celebrate every small victory as if it were something huge and deserving of love and praise. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s no problem,” Peko reassures, trying her best to maintain her usual leveled tone. “I could stop by during my lunch breaks to make sure that your plants are watered properly?” Peko offers, this time actually asking rather than declaring. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure? I don’t mean to pressure or inconvenience you or anything, really, you don’t have to — do you at least wish to be paid?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sonia, it’s just watering plants for a friend across the street,” Peko said bluntly, placing her hand on her shoulder comfortingly. Fuyuhiko, her friend for as long as she could remember, did the same to her when she was distressed, and it always calmed her down, so perhaps it would work on Sonia? “There’s no need for payment,” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The blonde’s mouth opened, as if to protest, before her brow furrowed ever so slightly. Her jaw shut itself as Sonia tilted her head slightly, staring at Peko with wide eyes. “Friend?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At that word, only one other ran through Peko’s head: <em> fuck. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Did she really overestimate her closeness with the girl upon <em>meeting </em>her? Talk about a fantastic first impression! Shit, to make matters worse, Sonia worked <em>directly </em>across the street from the flower shop, and Peko had <em>just </em>agreed to stop by every day to water her plants. Now, practically any chance of a friendship — or relationship, another part of her added on, but the rest of her silenced it with their own frantics — was definitely ruined, no matter how she could recover from this, she’d always be the girl who assumed Sonia was her friend to Sonia. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another word resounded in her mind: <em> drats! </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Peko could even open her mouth to apologize, Sonia smiles, her eyes shiny with tears. “I have never… had a <em> friend </em>before,” Sonia admits, her voice wavering as she fought to keep her tears at bay. “Thank you for being my first,”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Normally, in any other context, the words would make Peko blush, but instead, she gives Sonia a welcoming smile, extending her hand. “Come on, we still have time left in our lunch breaks. Do you want to study flower language in the meantime?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Would </em> I?” Sonia gasps, the same wonderstruck and enthralled expression occupying her face again. “Does the only serial killer group from Novoselic, coined <em> Noctis</em>, or night in Latin, have a total of 666 kills, the last from centuries ago?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...Yes?” Peko replied, blinking twice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Correctomundo!” Sonia praised, clasping her hands together. Peko was both baffled and intrigued with how she could just revert to her cheery self after spewing an unwarranted fact on serial killers in the middle of a conversation. “I apologize for that — I have been attempting to cut back on the references to serial killers I make, but alas…” Sonia sighed, gesturing her hand in front of her lazily as if to display her failure in the area. “But no matter!” She exclaims, looping her arm through Peko’s. “Now, tell me how to recite a ritual speech in flower language?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peko laughed, before turning to her side and seeing Sonia stare back at her, fully serious. Normally, the talk of how flower language was more of a code than an actual language would irritate her, but Peko couldn’t help but smile softly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It doesn’t really work like that, Sonia…” Peko trails off with a chuckle. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I see!” Sonia nods understandingly. “Do explain it to me!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nodding, Peko gestured her in the floristry — it was only after they were in did it occur to Peko that Sonia had completely forgotten to glance both ways, but decided not to mention it. “Fine, but I won’t go easy on you,” She warns, half-joking and half-serious. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t expect anything less!” Sonia proclaims. “Bring it on, sista!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peko had to stop herself from snorting at Sonia’s outdated language. However, once she set down the thick book on flower language, she couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her when Sonia’s eyes widened to the size of saucers at the thickness of the book. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Volume <em>one?</em>” Sonia asks, shell-shocked. Her pointer finger is underneath the words ‘<em>Volume One</em>’ in ‘<em>The Official Flower Language Guide: Volume One</em>’. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yes, Peko realizes as she looks at the hesitance in Sonia’s eyes, before being steeled over by undauntedness, her job was certainly going to be more interesting with the blonde around. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>they're so important to me</p>
<p>anyway, a canon-but-not-canon fact about this oneshot is that sonia definitely "forgot" to water her plants for an excuse to talk to the really pretty florist down the street,, in my mind peko gets a tattoo from sonia and that's when they end up confessing. while peko is getting a tattoo inked on her. absolute disasters they are and i love them for it!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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